Reviewed by Colin Jacobson (May 14, 2024)
After he built a career largely around film noir and/or crime thrillers, director Anthony Mann shifted to Westerns in 1950. Indeed, three of his four releases that year revolved around this genre, with Devil’s Doorway one of these.
During the Civil War, Shoshone Indian Lance Poole (Robert Taylor) earned the Congressional Medal of Honor for his heroics. This means little when he returns home to Wyoming, however, as the US doesn’t grant Native Americans citizenship.
This means he lacks property rights so he can’t easily fulfill his desire use family territory as a cattle rancher. Without much recourse via the legal system, Lance must fight to get what he wants.
Ah, the 1950s, back when someone as white as Robert Taylor could star as a Native American! Though to be fair, white actors played Indians for many years after this, so Doorway doesn’t stand out in regard to its problematic racial casting.
That said, Taylor feels utterly miscast. Under a layer of makeup and a terrible wig, Taylor seems completely unconvincing as a Native American.
Not that this means Taylor produces a bad performance, of course, as he adds a good level of spirit and heart to Lance. He just can’t ever make us accept him as an Indian, and that becomes a serious issue.
I do appreciate the fairly progressive bent of Doorway. Mann had experience in this realm, as 1948’s Border Incident painted Mexicans in a much more sympathetic light than one expects from that era.
Many Westerns painted Natives as savage villains, so the decision to make them the protagonists here surprises me, even though it came with precedent. Released not long before Doorway, 1950’s Broken Arrow also adopted this perspective.
I appreciate the way this evolves in Doorway, as it allows the indignities suffered by Lance to grow gradually. To some degree, I might argue the decision to make him a decorated war hero lays it on a little thick, but given attitudes of the time, it seemed necessary.
By that I mean we really need to see Lance as above reproach and the pure victim of bigotry. Eventually he lashes out violently but he doggedly attempts the pursuit of justice by all legal means until he reaches his breaking point.
This allows Doorway to build in an intriguing way. We essentially know where it’ll go, but Mann leads us there in such a tense manner that the predictability doesn’t matter.
Indeed, we also realize we shouldn’t expect a happy ending. Spoiler alert? Maybe, but it doesn’t take Ellery Queen to deduce that a story of Native Americans in the 1860s won’t end with the protagonists triumphant.
Not if the film wants any form of historical accuracy, that is. The notion that a rebellious Native would emerge victorious against all the white powers-that-be stacked against him would fly against truth.
Nonetheless, it feels gutsy to see a Hollywood movie from 1950 that allows for such a downbeat ending. It probably hurt box office returns, but it gives the movie more of an impact.
I still wish Doorway cast a lead actor more appropriate for the role than Robert Taylor, but the film still does much more right than wrong. A stirring mix of drama, action and social commentary, the movie holds up well after more than 70 years.